him we love. Him we all love. About and around him we call up no
dissentient and discordant and dissatisfied elements, no sectional
prejudice nor bias, no party, no creed, no dogma of politics. None of
these shall assail him. When the storm of battle blows darkest and rages
highest, the memory of Washington shall nerve every American arm and
cheer every American heart. It shall relume that Promethean fire, that
sublime flame of patriotism, that devoted love of country, which his
words have commended, which his example has consecrated.

RUFUS CHOATE.

* * * * *

Where may the wearied eyes repose
When gazing on the great,
Where neither guilty glory glows
Nor despicable state?
Yes,--one, the first, the last, the best,
The Cincinnatus of the West,
Whom envy dared not hate,
Bequeathed the name of Washington
To make men blush there was but one.

LORD BYRON.

* * * * *

_From "Washington's Vow," by John Greenleaf Whittier, read at the
dedication of the Washington Arch, at New York City, 1889_